Copyright © 2019 by Robin James Books
All Rights Reserved
Chapter One
“You open that oven one more time and I’m sticking this meat thermometer up your rear end!”
My brother Matty froze, his hand on the oven door. He slowly turned to see me brandishing the business end of the thermometer and he knew I wasn’t kidding.
“I’m hungry!” he said.
“We eat in an hour,” I said. “Have a roll.” I tossed him one from the wooden basket on the table.
Well, it wasn’t really a table. It was two tables, shoved together. We’d pulled every chair we could find and stuck them around the thing.
My sister Vangie’s house was barely big enough to hold us all, but we were making the best of it. Matty gave me a sour look, but retreated from the kitchen, taking a wolfish bite out of the roll he’d caught. He joined the others in the living room. A cheer went up followed by a chorus of cursing as the Lions’ kicker missed an extra point.
I stood with my hands on my hips and surveyed the table settings one more time. Sixteen. We’d made room for sixteen.
We’d cobbled together some mismatched table settings. Vangie had only moved into the house a few months ago. It was small. Only two bedrooms. But it was big enough for her and my seven-year-old niece Jessa. Plus, it was supposed to be conveniently down the street from me. It would have been, until faulty wiring burned my lake house to the ground a couple of months ago. So this Thanksgiving, we were making the best of it here on Finn Lake.
“Relax,” my brother Joe said. He had come from the hallway. One bathroom for sixteen people with half of them drinking beer had also been a challenge.
“Did you bring the cranberry sauce?” I asked.
He scrunched his nose up. “Nobody likes that crap Cass. Grandpa Leary was the only one and he’s been dead for a billion years.”
“We have to have cranberry sauce,” I said. “It’s a thing, Joe. It’d be like forgetting the gravy.”
“Who forgot the gravy?” Matty yelled from the living room.
“No one!” Joe and I yelled back together.
“You need a drink,” Joe said.
“Try this.” Jeanie Mills, my law partner, came out of the kitchen and handed me a freshly poured glass of apple Riesling. Making it was her new hobby. Jeanie wasn’t related by blood, but she was as close to me as everyone else in this room. She put an arm around me.
“I’m glad you’re here,” I said. Jeanie usually traveled to Fort Wayne for the holidays. She had a sister out there. This year, she and her brother-in-law had taken a European cruise for their anniversary so I happily inherited Jeanie for the day.
Tough, short, no-nonsense, Jeanie had always been able to help me keep my brothers in line growing up. She’d been one of the only responsible adults in our lives after we lost our mother. Our father was ... well ... absent.
“Maddy, sit!”
Jessa held a biscuit in her hand. She’d been trying to teach my dog Madison some basic commands.
Matty turned around. “You’re gonna have to come up with a different name for that damn dog.” I hadn’t thought it through when I named her, but Maddy and Matty sounded the same.
I held a hand over my mouth to cover my giggle. “Mads,” I said. “Remember, Jessa? We call her Mads when Uncle Matty’s around.”
“Wouldn’t hurt you to learn to heel either,” Jeanie said, ruffling my brother’s hair as she passed by him.
I took a sip of my wine. The doorbell rang. Vangie was closest and answered. Matty’s wife Tina stood there with a tentative smile on her face.
I held my breath for a moment. Matty and Tina had been off and on again for the last year and a half. When Matty stayed on the wagon, Tina stayed around. When he didn’t, it got ugly for everyone.
Matty rose. Tina held up two cans of cranberry sauce.
“To the rescue,” Joe said. He stepped around me and gave our sister-in-law a hug.
“Hey, Vangie,” Tina said.
The two of them had a frosty relationship. Despite Matty’s shortcomings, Vangie would defend him to the death against anyone for anything. And my sister wasn’t one to hold her tongue for diplomacy’s sake.
“Hey, Tina!” I called out. Her shoulders sank with relief for the diversion from Vangie’s withering stare. Matty shot her a look aimed to get her to back off.
“Good luck gettin’ that to work,” I muttered under my breath as Tina came closer. Jessa was at my side ready to take her coat to the back bedroom.
“Full house, huh?” Tina asked.
It really was. Joe’s daughter Emma was here with her new boyfriend. Joe’s wife Katy brought her brother and sister in from out of town. Their house would have been better for this particular shindig, but for the Leary family, holidays at the lake was a tradition going back eighty years, come hell or high water. It felt like bad juju to break it.
“Everything smells great,” Tina said. She really was a sweet girl. Dark-brown hair, she had apples in her cheeks when she smiled. Her hug felt genuine as she wrapped her arms around me.
“It’s good to have you here,” I said. “You’re good for Matty.”
“Don’t start,” Joe said through gritted teeth.
“Turkey’s done!”
My sister-in-law Katy called out from the kitchen. It caused a mad scramble to the tables.
“Perfect timing,” Matty said. “It’s half-time anyway.”
Marbury, my other dog, opened a lazy eye from the end of the couch. He was far more laid back than his mother. Jessa held Madison in her arms as she took her seat next to Vangie.
“No dogs at the table,” Vangie told her daughter.
“Guess that leaves you out too,” Joe said to our little brother. Matty slugged him in the arm. Tina gave Matty some side-eye. He cleared his throat and took a seat beside her.
“They’re brothers,” Vangie said in a sharp tone to Tina. “They don’t need you to mediate.”
“Vangie,” I whispered.
Joe went to the head of the table as Katy brought the turkey out for him to carve. Emma and her boyfriend, Ian, scooted past little Jessa. Katy and Joe didn’t really approve of Ian, but I wondered if it was always like that with teenage daughters.
“Come, you heathens,” Katy said. “See if you can manage to get through grace.”
“Technically we’re papists,” Joe said. I bit my lip past the mention that very few of us at this table had actually been to Mass in a while. Still, our Irish-Catholic blood ran strong.
“Balls,” Matty said. “The gravy’s still on the stove.”
“You owe me a dollar, Uncle Matty,” Jessa said. “No swearing at the dinner table.”
“How about no swearing anywhere?” I waved a ladle at my brother. He stuck his tongue out at me and dodged around Joe’s knife for the kitchen.
“I’m missing a fork,” Jeanie called out.
“I’ve got two,” Ian said, handing her one.
Matty came back from the kitchen and deposited two gravy boats, one at each end of the table.
“You mongrels all situated now?” I said, exasperated. And yet, a warm glow filled me. I couldn’t remember the last time we’d all been together like this. In the past few years, other things had always gotten in the way. First I left Delphi. Then Vangie did. Matty and Tina had been separated as much as they were together.
This was good. Familiar chaos that made this house feel like home, despite how tiny and temporary it all was. After dinner, I had a surprise for my brothers and sister.
“Grace, Joe,” Katy said. He froze, holding his carving knife in one hand, a serving fork in the other.
“Cass, you do it,” he said. “I always forget the words she used.”
He put down the utensils and everyone around the table joined hands.
I missed my mother today. She was here in spirit though. I pretended I could see the room through her eyes and knew I could through her heart. We were all her babies. We were all in one piece.
I cleared my throat. “I think I remember how this goes. May there always be work for your hands to do. May your pockets always hold a coin or two. May the sun shine bright on your windowpane. May the rainbow be certain to follow each rain. May the hand of a friend always be near you. And may God fill your heart with gladness to cheer you.”
I think I saw Jeanie wipe a tear from her eye. I wondered if she felt my mother’s spirit too.
“What about the other part?” Jessa asked. “The food part.”
“Right,” I said. We linked hands again. “Bless us oh Lord, for these thy gifts which we are about to receive from thy bounty, through Christ, Our Lord, Amen.”
The amens wound their way around the table and Jessa looked to Matty and mimicked his proper sign of the cross. I scooted my chair back in.
“Rub a dub dub, bless this grub,” Joe said, winking. That was Grandpa Leary’s favorite blessing. He plopped the first slab of turkey on his plate and passed the platter around.
“Save some for the rest of us, fatass,” Matty called out.
“That’s two dollars,” Jessa said.
Matty winked at her. “Can I just give you a twenty and call it even?”
“Stop,” Tina said. She was blushing though. They were holding hands under the table. Lord, that’s how it was with those two. There was no middle ground. They were either living in separate houses, or all over each other. We prayed over the food, but I had secretly prayed for Matty to keep himself straight through the coming year. Tina deserved that from him. And he deserved it for himself. He’d be twenty-seven in a few weeks. Far past time to grow up and settle.
As the food made its way around the table, the conversation died down as everyone stuffed their mouths. Jeanie caught my eye. Of course she was thinking of my mom too.
Later, with my brothers’ bellies full and the Lions hopelessly behind in points, I figured now was as good a time as any to do the other big thing I had planned for the day.
I pulled the rusted, partially charred lockbox out from the bottom of the front closet along with a set of bolt cutters I borrowed from my brother for the occasion. A few months ago, one of the demolition crew members had found it in the ashes of my former home. It had been buried near the foundation of the house our great-grandfather had built. The faded lettering on the side of the box read: “Clan Leary – April 14, 1922.”
“Turn the television off,” Vangie said, eyeing the box. I took a seat on the floor in the middle of the living room. My brothers, their wives, my sister, various in-laws, and Jeanie all sat up straighter in their seats.
“We’re never all together like this these days,” I said. “I figured today would be the perfect day to see what’s inside this thing.”
“Let me,” Joe said.
He took the bolt cutter and sat on the floor beside me. The brittle lock broke easily and fell away. I hesitated before opening the lid. I didn’t expect to find anything of monetary value inside the thing. Still, as far as we knew, this box hadn’t been opened in nearly a century. I felt the ghosts of my family’s past whispering in my ear.
The lid creaked as I opened it. Inside, there were yellowed stacks of folded paper. I took them out one by one. At the bottom of the box was a mountain of old photographs. Joe took some of them and began to spread them on the coffee table in front of the couch.
“Wow,” Vangie said, kneeling beside the table. “Look at all of them.”
The largest of the pictures was a group shot with the lake itself as the backdrop. The caption written on the front in white chalk read: “Clan Leary, 1921.” On the back of the photo were written all the first names. We read them together.
A handsome fellow stood in front, one hand on his hip, the other on a shovel that he’d just planted in the earth.
“That’s Great-Grandpa,” Joe said. “Patrick. I think he’s breaking ground on the original lake house.”
“You’re right,” I said. The man in the photo had an opaque right eye. We’d always been told he’d gone blind in it after a battlefield injury suffered in the waning days of World War I. The lake view behind him hadn’t changed much in a hundred years. I stared at it every morning in the year and a half since I came back to Delphi and moved into the house. I missed it.
From the group photo, we were able to recognize most of the rest of the people in the other images. They depicted various stages of construction of the old house. We’d always heard Great-Grandpa built the place with his bare hands, but it was another thing to see it actually happening. He worked alongside his brothers, our great-uncles. He’d hung a tire swing on the giant weeping willow tree that hadn’t survived the fire. In one shot, a little boy sat in it, ready to get launched straight into the lake.
I picked up the folded, yellow pages that I’d found on the top of the box. My heart tripped as I carefully spread them out. They were sketches, done in Great-Grandpa Leary’s hand. House plans drawn in painstaking detail, floor by floor. At the top of each page, he’d written “My Someday House.”
It was beautiful. He’d dreamt of a home with tall windows on each floor facing the lake. It had a huge, wrap-around porch and a stable beside it.
“That’s not what the old house looked like at all,” Matty observed.
“It never would have fit on that lot,” I said. “He says it’s the Someday House. Maybe he was planning to upgrade someday.”
“Just like you,” Vangie said, smiling.
I folded the pages and tucked them against my chest. There were tears in my eyes. I turned away so my brothers and sister wouldn’t see. Jeanie did though. She reached around and patted my shoulder.
I hadn’t yet told any of them except for Jeanie that I’d bought a double lot from the township earlier this fall after a tense negotiation. This house my great-grandfather conceived, almost a hundred years ago? It looked uncannily similar to what I’d discussed with my contractor. While the rest of my family pored over the photos, I put Grandpa’s plans in my leather bag. I wanted to study them in more detail when I was alone.
“Dad should see these,” Matty whispered to Vangie. I don’t think he knew I was close enough to hear. She shot him a nervous glance and nodded quickly. My stomach dropped. I knew that look. My youngest brother and sister were hiding a secret.
Matty looked up and caught my glance. He swallowed hard.
“Matty,” I said. “Can I talk to you for a second?”
Joe froze on the other side of the room.
“Matty,” Vangie said. “You might as well just tell them.”
Tina moved closer to her husband. “Tell us what?” she asked.
Matty let out a hard sigh. “Don’t freak out,” he said. “But ... Dad’s back in town.”
The earth shifted beneath me. Joe rose with the force of a volcano.
“What do you mean, Dad’s back in town?” His voice thundered. The dogs scrambled for cover.
“He wanted to come today,” Vangie said. “We didn’t think that would be such a good idea.”
“When were you going to tell us?” I asked.
My father, Joe Leary, Sr. had been the single, most significant destructive force within my family. He was volatile when drunk and that had been most of my childhood. Then, when my mother passed away, he all but disappeared, leaving Joe and me to practically raise Matty and Vangie alone.
“We’re telling you now,” Matty said, his voice taking a hard edge. Tina’s eyes caught mine. I tried to force a smile. She of all people knew what this meant. My father’s presence had been one of Matty’s biggest triggers as he struggled with his own alcoholism. She was near tears, which told me this bombshell was news to her too.
“You’ve been talking to him?” Joe said. “Both of you?”
“A little,” Vangie said. “We told him now wasn’t the best time to come back into the family. We were going to talk to you guys first.”
“He’s different this time,” Matty said. “He’s got his drinking under control. He told me he’s been seeing Sheila Brewer.”
“The town librarian?” Joe said, incredulous. “You mean that sweet little lady who wears the cat sweatshirts?”
“Yeah,” Vangie said.
“Christ,” Joe said. “She’s lived in Delphi her whole life. What the hell is she thinking of getting mixed up with him? And if Dad’s drinking at all, it’s not under control, Matty.”
“He’s happy,” Matty said. “And he’s changed. If you’d just give him a chance …”
Joe’s bitter laugh sent a flash of fear through me. Of all of us, he’d suffered the most at our father’s hands. The last day we all lived under the same roof together, my brother had finally chased him off with a shotgun after Dad threatened to hit Matty in a drunken rage. Matty had been maybe twelve years old.
“You listen to me,” Joe said. He pointed a finger at our younger brother. “You stay away from that man. He’s nothing but trouble. He’ll drag you down. How many times has he done it before? Huh? What’s it going to take for you to learn?”
“Joe,” Matty started. Tina was full-on crying now. She feared the same thing Joe and I did.
He was back. My father was back. By the look on Matty’s face, I knew it was already too late. Matty had probably already let him all the way back into his life. I heard a sound then in my imagination as if a fuse had been lit.
Tick. Tick. Boom.
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